Ling Fan glanced at the Lei Ming crowd, his eyebrows raised slightly. These people really were relentless.
Fan Zhan and his companions staggered to their feet, their hearts heavy. They had just acknowledged their leader; could it really be that their end was approaching so soon?
Ling Fan paid no attention to the secretive murmurs of the crowd or the mockery from the Lei Ming group. He simply couldn't be bothered—it was meaningless. As long as he knocked Xiong Tianlu down, all other voices would be silenced.
Xiong Tianlu looked at Ling Fan, who was stepping onto the Fighting Stage, and said in a deep voice, "Will you end it yourself, or should I help you?"
"Heh heh, are you that confident? I can treat what you said just now as farting. I'm giving you a clear way out now, kneel down and kowtow to apologize, call me 'Grandpa' three times, and I may spare your miserable life!" Ling Fan said indifferently.
